


L'amour Tue (Bleu)

by adisappearingactdonepoorly



Category: Wings of Fire - Tui T. Sutherland
Genre: Assassin AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 12:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13008210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adisappearingactdonepoorly/pseuds/adisappearingactdonepoorly
Summary: Prince Winter had the bluest eyes Qibli had ever seen.





	L'amour Tue (Bleu)

**Author's Note:**

> Winter is French, because why not?

Love meant nothing to Qibli.

People told him it was a simple concept, but he really just couldn’t grasp it.

Maybe that was why he’s an assassin. No empathy, no heart, no emotion. No possible way of him having feelings for anyone.

But it was okay.

He didn’t need love.

Because love meant nothing to Qibli.

 

* * *

 

Scorpion Den was teeming with Outclaws but Qibli manages to slip through the crowd. He really wasn’t too sure where he was going, his claws leading the way.

An entire month had passed and there were no assignments for him. Frankly, he was stultified, and so maybe that’s why his claws decided to take him to Cobra.

Cobra was his mother, sure he’d give you that.

But he definitely did not love her.

 

Her cabin smells of smoke and weed, and honestly Qibli couldn’t care less for his mother’s health. The scent was asphyxiating and a sour look crossed his face.

A steely glare is all Cobra gives him when he enters before she turns back to fiddling with her ring. “Finally,” she spits, a cigarette between her lips.

Qibli just sighs and gives her a dry smile. “Hello mother.”

“You here for your next mission or just to annoy me?”

“Whichever you prefer.”

She throws a scrunched up note at him in response. “Details on the thing. Now get out.”

Another dry smile. “Of course.”

“Don’t play smart with me!”

Qibli ducks and the rock Cobra throws at him misses him completely. “Not being smart,” Qibli mutters quietly to himself as he slips out of the cabin. “You just don’t seem to understand satire.”

 

The paper was crumpled and stained, so when Qibli opened it he was greeted with tears, blood and ink. The name of the victim was scrawled messily in his mother’s tiny, tiny handwriting, which wasn’t very helpful at all.

The profile picture was also covered in dark stains, but Qibli could make out faint pale blue scales.

Probably an IceWing.

Qibli hums to himself, thinking back to that time he killed that IceWing from the Talons of Peace.

It was sickeningly gross and he had to admit, he didn’t like it. But it wasn’t like he had much choice in his occupation opportunities.

He’d always wanted to be a doctor, because he thought he’d be pretty good at comforting dragons. He would work in Possiblity and have a small hospital.

No, instead he became a killer.

There really weren’t many benefits, but what could he say? He hadn’t tried any other professions.

By now, he had managed to scrap away some of the dry blood and the victim’s name was almost visible. Qibli squints, his brain trying to comprehend the scrawls.

The name wasn’t shocking. In fact, Cobra had been hinting this dragon must die.

So Qibli just sucks in a breath and disposes of the paper.

Prince Winter.

The next victim.

For Qibli, that seemed simple enough.


End file.
